


GOLD - Creepypasta X Reader

by Sophie_The_Witch



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Bad Fic, Creepy Fluff, Creepypasta, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Help these poor kids, Its trash, Multi, Polyamory, and you're stubborn and curious, jack is okay, jane is salty, jeff is mean, probably poly because i dont like hurt feelings, reader wants a break, reader wants a hug, spend ur time doing something better pls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-10-02 02:42:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17256119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophie_The_Witch/pseuds/Sophie_The_Witch
Summary: Usually when I got caught in something I'd be able to pull myself out. But not when I went outside that night.Outside to the beginning of my new life- or death, depending on how you look at it.I still can't tell if it was a good decision or not... but maybe it was.I'll just have to wait and see.





	1. Curiosity Killed The Cat

Tonight was a warm quiet night, the only thing you could hear was an owl hooting. You're sitting in bed, a warm cup of mint tea and an episode of "My Hero Academia" accompanying you. You always loved the night, the calm, quiet darkness. As a kid, you never feared the dark... you were more curious about what the darkness contained.

So, when you hear a loud crash outside, you deciding to investigate is not a miraculous occurrence. You are often called "too-curious-for-your-own-good" by your close friends (when you had them), known to always take the dangerous route - unless others were involved. The curiosity tugging at you is more insistent than anything you'd ever felt before, but that was how it felt every single time. You also wanted to make sure no animal was digging through your trash.

That was the deciding factor, you not wanting to clean up scattered rubbish tomorrow morning.

You hop out of bed and tug on your shorts before wandering to the kitchen. On the way out the back, you grab a flashlight, wanting to be able to see whatever animal or thing caused the loud noise. And after winding your way through the house, you finally reach the back and open the door...

Oh, Fuck. That's a lot of blood.

A raven-haired boy in a bloody-red hoodie is lying on the ground in front of a girl with long, beautiful black hair and pale skin - she wore a short, black, figure-hugging dress.

The boy seems to be sitting in his own puddle of blood, while the girl held a knife dripping with (presumably) the boy's blood.

_Fuck... I am so screwed._

"L-look Jane, honey, I-" the boy stuttered out.

"Don't you _"honey"_ me! I have gone through so much bullshit today! And your pathetic attempt at killing me was the _last_ thing I needed!" the girl screeched at the boy.

You freeze, fear running through you at the scene before you. You want to scream for help, but it's not an option since you're frozen stiff. You weren't even certain if these people existed, you had been having awful nightmares, and this certainly fits with the theme of the dreams you'd been having. You certainly hoped they weren't real.

While you were thinking to yourself the pair finally noticed you. They both seem to be confused by your presence - which made no sense, they were in _your_ backyard.

_Why me?_

And in your tired and fear-driven state, you ask them,"...Uh, am I intruding? I can go back inside if I am..."

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

This seems to make them even more confused, judging by how the boy's mouth had dropped open. Then you start to notice the... _extra_ weird things about them, like how the boy had a smile carved into his face and the girl, had completely black eyes - sclera and all.

At this point, you were almost certain you were dreaming. If not, this was definitely how you died.

"...Well, fuck." the boy says, staring at you from the ground.

The girl glares at him before raising her head to glare at you, her black eyes shining at you. She steps over the boy's body and comes closer to you.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I kinda need this today." the girl says.

And then she stabs you.

In the throat.

Searing pain rushes through you, your chest stinging and burning with every breath. You crumble to the ground, dark red rushing out of you. The pain is all consuming and you quickly start losing consciousness. You feel yourself drowning, choking, on your own life force.

"P-please..." you stutter out, blood dripping from your mouth.

The girl glances down at you before squatting and pulling the knife from your throat, causing the blood to squirt into her face. She straightens to her full height staring at the blood-covered knife.

"Don't go to sleep..."

Your eyes flicker for the last time.

"You won't wake up."

 


	2. But Satisfaction Brought It Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is double the last one.
> 
> ...I don't like writing consistently sized chapters.

You wake up to the sun rising and the birds chirping their morning song. The sky is a gorgeous purple and orange, and the clouds are in beautiful swirling shapes. Everything should be perfect in the world.

But it isn’t.

Because you’re sitting outside, in red and gold stained pyjamas - your ass wet from the morning dew. You’re cold, confused and can’t remember for the life of you how you ended up out here.

And the worst part is you can tell the red on you and staining the ground is definitely blood.

Actually, the worst part might be the golden glitter.

The glitter was certainly the most mysterious, the blood was horrifying, but the liquid gold that had gone hard on your clothes looked… pretty. It was quite a contrast to the bloody scene that was you. The gold covered most of your skin, and the blood covered the rest of you.

At least, you think you’re unharmed, this must be someone else’s blood.

You look to your right, on the ground is a boy.

A boy covered in blood. Wow, you guys are matching!

You let loose a shriek of terror at seeing the body. Where did he come from? Is he dead? What happened last night!?

Slowly, you crawl to the boy’s body, shaking with every movement. He’s lying on his stomach at the moment, so you roll him over (gently) onto his back. His eyes are closed, and it seems that whoever did this to him and you also…

Cut a smile onto his face.

You flinch back at the horror of what you’re seeing, but the kind soul you had (the one that always got you into trouble) demanded that you try and help this guy. You inspected him some more, noticing most of the blood was centred around his chest. You want to check his pulse, but you can’t find one - so, that’s a bad sign, you think.

You can barely feel your body, but you still need to call the police, so you drag yourself towards the house. Once inside you pick up the home phone, and call the police, informing them of your situation.

You know you shouldn’t be this calm, but you believe you’re in shock… or something. You decide to go see your guest again, while you wait for the police to arrive. Your shaking form stumbles outside to see the boy.

But he’s on his stomach again? He must’ve moved - good, means he’s alive. You let out a sigh of relief and bend down to his level, sitting cross-legged on the ground next to him.

“Um, buddy, you wanna go inside? Actually, that's a bad idea. The cops and ambulance are on their way-” you murmur, gently to him.

“No! T-tell ‘em to fuck off!” the boy groans, not lifting his head from the ground. He rolls over and squints open one eye at you. You both make eye contact, and you smile sweetly at him.

“How the fuck are you alive?” he asks incredulously.

You snort.

“I could ask the same about you… Do you remember what happened to us? I sure don’t!” you say, staring down at the boy with a smile cut onto his face.

Yikes… really creepy.

He stays silent, squinting his dark stormy grey eyes at you.

“...Alright, bud, don’t have to say anything to me, but the cops will want to know,” you tell him, breaking eye contact to awkwardly scratch the back of your neck.

An awkward silence fills the space as the boy stares at you. You can’t bring yourself to look back at him, so the only way you know he’s staring at you is the uncomfortable feeling of being judged.

The boy finally looks away, makes a sound of discontent, and pulls himself into a seated position.

“Uh, maybe you should just-”

“Shut up!” he barks at you, pulling himself onto his feet.

Woah.

You were worried this guy was dead a few minutes ago! And now the idiot was standing up like he hadn’t almost bled to death. He also told you to shut up, which was mean, but he has gone through a rough time…

You decide not to comment.

The boy starts stretching his arms, his shaggy black hair falling in front of his face. He looks down at you and grins in a… deranged way.

Yikes, this guy is  _ not _ a pretty guy.

Whatever, you weren’t one to judge. You pull yourself up onto your feet, not appreciating the extra height this already tall kid had on you.

Actually, he might be an adult, you couldn’t particularly tell by his appearance.

You think about asking him, but then you make eye contact with him and freeze up.

His pupils were little pricks in his crazed stare, you immediately break eye contact.

You were starting to believe that he might’ve been part of the attack on you as well. His demeanour certainly screamed violent, honestly you had no idea why you’d ever thought well of him - actually, it was likely because you were a naive idiot.

The only time’s you weren’t afraid was when you should be.

“Alright, bitch-” he starts speaking.

“Rude, much?” you cut him off, turning your head back to stare into is his eyes.

Well, you were afraid… but it seemed when put in a life-threatening situation you took on a more headstrong attitude than usual. Well, you guess you’ll find out if that attitude is useful.

Your stare drags down from his eyes to his lips, scanning the scars along them. You’re not disgusted by them, to your surprise, more curious. Upon further inspection, it’s obvious these scars are old - but it looks like they’re agitated often.

The scarred lips twist into a smirk.

“You like what you see?” he asks, grinning down at you.

The fuck? What gave him that idea?

“You’ve got a lot of confidence for someone who smells like he hasn’t showered in years,” you tell him, a scowl marring your face.

His smirk turns into a copy of your scowl.

And then you’re upside down and staring at his blood-covered hoodie. He begins to stride off into the woods, and you begin thrashing around.

“Put me down, you huge oaf! I’ll fuck you up!” you start screeching from your position upside down over his shoulder.

“A lot of confidence for someone as light as a feather,” he comments over his shoulder, in a decidedly smug tone.

You hiss at his use of your words fired back at you.

After a while of struggling you give up, the blood pooling in your head starting to give you a headache. He seems to relax his hold on you a little, and a part of you wants to fight back.

The larger part just wants to let him take you wherever he’s going, and have a nap.

You doubt you can have a nap upside down, so you ask if you can change positions. Which definitely makes you look like an idiot, but you couldn’t last much longer like this.

“Hey, buddy-” you start.

“I am not your buddy, I am kidnapping you. We are not buddies,” he hisses out the last word.

“Aight. Hey, kidnapper, can I have a piggyback ride instead of this? I want to have a nap and the blood pooling to my head is giving me a headache,”

He stops and you bang your forehead against his back, then he lets go of you and you drop to the ground - not landing on your head, luckily.

Still hurts like a bitch.

The rocks and twigs of the forest floor dig into you, leaving bruises and cuts.

“Oof,” you wheeze out.

“We’re here, get up,” he orders you.

You really don’t like him.

You pull yourself to your feet, dusting off your knees, wincing as your hand glides along a scrape. You look up at the wooden cabin, it seemed cosy with a smokey trail floating out of a stone chimney. But there was something unsettling about the house.

The unsettling part about it was that it was around 6 in the morning and you were brought here against your will.

So in the end, not so cosy.

The bastard wraps a rust-red hand around your arm and tugs you toward the cabin’s entrance. He pulls you up the small set of stairs and knocks - impatiently, you notice - on the door.

“Jack! I’m back, and I think I have a weirdo with me-”

The door swings inside at his words and a blue mask greets us.


	3. The Man With No Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet a man in a mask, hopefully, he'll be kinder than Jeff.

Black goo oozes from the holes in their mask. The person has chin-length brown hair and… gray skin. The hand that grips the door has razor-sharp claw-like nails, and a tail sways between their jean-clad legs. And they’re also fucking  _ gigantic, holy shit.  _ Dude has to be at least 6’6.

 

Once again, the fuck?

 

“Jeff, what’s this? You shouldn’t bring humans back to the house,” the… man says, you think he is at least - he has a deep, scratchy voice, but it’s soft and gentle too.

 

His voice does not match his appearance  _ at all _ .

 

Wait did he- Jack?- say humans… are they not human? Fuck, of course they’re not human - this guy has a tail!

 

_ God, I’m really screwed. _

 

“I don’t know - and I don’t think she’s human. Whatever she is, she’s definitely a freak,” says the bastard - or Jeff, you guess. You think bastard suits him better. 

 

“Why?” the masked guy says.

 

He opens the door wider and you step in before Jeff can shove you inside - you feel his arm graze the back of your t-shirt, just missing pushing you. 

 

“Well, we both should be dead - and I think the only reason I’m alive is because I got splattered by her glitter blood,” 

 

You trip and fall forward onto the decorative rug, the wind getting knocked out of your for the second time today.

 

...What did he just say?

 

_ I should be dead? _

 

What happened last night?!

 

You get yanked to your feet, Jeff muttering about how “it was damn impossible to stand on your own two feet” - which you find offensive, you’d had a hard day.

 

You think it might get harder.

 

You spin on your feet to stare at the dripping blue mask - as much as you can, Jeff hadn’t let go of you.

 

You try to wrench yourself from his grasp again, to no avail. In response, he lets go of your arms and holds you back by the back collar of your shirt.

 

You let out an undignified screech of rage.

 

“You really are as harmless as a kitten,” Jeff mutters from behind you.

 

Another scream.

 

“You should be politer to our guests, Jeff. We should always make a good impression,” Jack scolds.

 

You look up to the eyeless man and plead for help with your eyes. You had been told you had particularly good puppy eyes, so hopefully, this monster was kinder than the one that kidnapped you.

 

He doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest.

 

He breaks eye contact with you to look up to Jeff.

 

“Follow me, I’d like to run some tests,” 

 

Jeff starts roughly shoving you forward, and you awkwardly shuffle forward as much as you can with his hand still clinging to your shirt. You think he stepped on your ankle, you don’t think it was by accident.

 

Eventually, you get pushed to the end of the hallway, past the living room and down a staircase into the basement.

 

Uh-oh, everyone knows horror movie basements are  _ bad news _ .

 

“C-could we go back upstairs?” you shakily stutter, wringing your hands.

 

“No,” Jack says.

 

Man, you can’t tell who’s worse out of the two of them.

 

You observe the musty room around you, it seems to be some sort of makeshift hospital - but it could definitely use some work on the smell. The place reeks of dust and mould.

 

...That’s probably not very hygienic.

 

You are pushed closer to a hospital bed, and you expect Jeff to finally,  _ finally _ let you go - he doesn’t. He forcefully spins you around and pushes you down onto the bed.

 

You open your mouth to say some dumb dirty joke - but are cut off by Jack.

 

“We are going to be doing some simple tests - heart rate, pupils, blood-” you wince at that, you’d always hated needles, “-and I’ll ask a few questions afterwards.”

 

You kinda want to disagree, but you want to stay on Jack’s good side - he seems to be in (mild) control of the demon that was Jeff. So, with great resignation, you glumly nod your head.

 

Jeff smirks at your misery, and you in all of your wisdom - stick your tongue out at him.

 

His face scrunches in confusion, and he looks like he’s about to retort but then Jack cuts him off.

 

Jack seems to have a habit of that.

 

“Let’s get started before you two start a fight in my office-”

 

“Dude, this is a dingy basement.”

 

From the look on Jack’s face, you don’t think you’ve succeeded in staying on his good side.

 

-

 

“And finally, I’m going to take some blood,” Jack says, picking a needle up with his gloved hand.

 

Your tests had all come back average so far - well, you’re heart rate was pretty high but to be fair…

 

These guys were  _ weird _ .

 

The more time Jeff spent sitting next to you, the more he started fidgeting (which you could understand) but what you didn’t understand was why he didn’t leave. Jack had said he could leave, but he declined.

 

You got the impression this guy wasn’t able to concentrate on one thing for very long - so it was creeping you out how he hadn’t moved from beside you. It didn’t help with his pasty skin and grisly appearance.

 

Once again you didn’t feel disgusted toward him, just fear, curiosity and… maybe a little pity?

 

You didn’t feel disgusted by either of them… 

 

You were certainly afraid, however.

 

Jack gently holds your arm, and you flinch - here comes the part you’re dreading. You turn your head away from your suddenly hypersensitive arm and into Jeff’s shoulder. Oops, wasn’t like you had anywhere else to look - Jack’s gigantic presence took up your other side.

 

Still, your nose scrunches up at the scent of rusty blood on his hoodie.

 

“Dude, have you ever washed this-”

 

You feel a prick in your skin.

 

“Ow-  _ fuck! _ ” you curse, barely holding yourself back from flinching away.

 

Jack coos out some half-hearted words of encouragement, words that you completely ignore. You grit your teeth until Jack pulls back the needle and puts a bandaid over the wound.

 

“That should be-” Jack starts.

 

Then, silence.

 

You turn your head to look at Jack in question but instantly spot the reason for his abrupt silence. 

 

The needle was glowing a brilliant gold.

 

And then… everything went to shit.


End file.
